


Leave a mark

by DucK_walKed_up_to_the_401



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Introspection, It’s like a teaser trailer for another fic, Please correct me I can’t English, Questioning my purpose, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DucK_walKed_up_to_the_401/pseuds/DucK_walKed_up_to_the_401
Summary: Neil Josten is a little too real for a runaway.
Kudos: 13





	Leave a mark

**Author's Note:**

> Hey welcome take a seat this won’t take long at all. This is mostly just a teaser kind of thing for a fic that I’ll be posting later and so it’s very short blah blah blah that shabang. Have fun and um yea that. I suck at this. I’m sorry.

He knew for a long time that he would be forgotten. A kid with no name, no face, no life and no purpose outside of this constant need to run. To move farther and farther away, and to never be real.  
He was never meant to be anything more than nothing.  
But everyone needs to leave their mark somewhere. He was no different.  
Some people left their mark in the form of pictures. A moment, frozen in time. And they silently hoped that when they were gone, people would look at the picture and think of them.  
Some people left their marks in creations. Something that would survive the test of time and outlive them. Something special.  
Some people left their mark in scars. He was living proof of the scars people leave. Both ones you see and ones you don’t. They are not forgotten, but their memory is stained with hatred from all those they hurt.  
He leaves his mark in the way many runaways do. A name here, carved into the wood of a park bench. A message here, faded black marker on metal. Runaways love leaving their marks, perhaps because they know that they’ll probably wind up dead in an alley somewhere, no name, no face, nothing but another lost kid. No one will mourn them, and it will be like they never lived at all.  
So He left names everywhere, each written in their own personalized handwriting.  
Chris, written simply on a paper, tucked into a hole in a tree.  
Michael, carved into that park bench from earlier.  
Alex, written on the metal doors to the warehouse him and his mom had stayed in.  
Luke, name scrawled on a brick with shaking hands.  
Abram, written in the sand. He knew it would wash away soon. Maybe he was ok with disappearing.  
And Neil Josten, written anywhere and everywhere. On contracts for exy teams, on homework assignments. Signing Christmas cards for the foxes. The name was blasted from speakers in games. Neil Josten was all over the news.  
Neil Josten was real, and he wasn’t going to be forgotten anytime soon

**Author's Note:**

> There you go. Goal is to get the real fic rolling within the next week so that’s a something that’s happening. Thanks for reading and have a nice time.


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